'Perfectly. The book has been in the safe for two years. It has been taken out by someone--presumably the forger--the cheque has been forged; the counterfoil filled up; and the book replaced. Why was all this trouble taken? If the man had got the cheque, why did he fill up the counterfoil? Why did he return the book? I beg your pardon.' 'Your questions are pertinent. I come to the next point. The safe is never opened but by myself. It is open so long as I am in the room, and at no other time.' 'Certainly, I know that.' 'Very well. The man who took out this cheque book, forged the cheque, and replaced the book, must have done it in my very presence.' 'Oh! Could not someone--somehow--have got a key?' 'I thought of that. It is possible. But the drawers are full of valuables, jewellery--curios--all kinds of things which could easily be turned into money. And they were not touched. Now, had the safe been opened by a key, these things would certainly have vanished.' 'So it would seem.' 'These are the main facts, Mr. Arundel. Oh! one more. We have found the messenger who cashed the cheque. Perhaps there are one or two other points of more or less importance. There is only one more point I wish to bring before you. Of course--I make no charge--I insinuate none. But this must be remembered--there are only two persons who have had access to this safe in such a manner as to make it possible for them to take anything out of it-- Checkley----' 'No--no--no,' cried the old man. 'And you yourself. At the time of the robbery, you were working at that table with the safe open and within reach of your left hand. This is a fact, mind--one of the facts of the case--not a charge.' 'What?' cried the young man, his cheek aflame--'you mean----' 'I mean nothing--nothing at all. I want you--and Checkley--who alone have used this room, not counting callers who sat in that chair--to know the facts.' 'The facts--yes--of course--the facts. Well'--he spoke rapidly and a little incoherently--'it is true that I worked here--but--oh! it is absurd. I know nothing of any cheque book lying in your safe. I was working at this table'--he went to the table--'sitting in this chair. How could I get up and search about in a safe for an unknown and unsuspected cheque book before your very eyes?' 'I do not know. It seems impossible. I only desire you to consider, with me, the facts.' Had Mr. Dering spoken just a little less coldly, with just a little less dryness in his manner, what followed would perhaps have been different. 'Yes--the facts,' repeated the young man. 'Well--let us get at the facts. The chief fact is that whoever took that cheque and filled it up must have known the existence of that cheque book more than two years old.' 'It would seem so.'